The Chocolate Milk Kid is Back. Be Afraid. I Am.

My What you are about to read actually happened. The names have not been changed, mainly because I don’t know the Chocolate Milk Kid’s name. But, that face is forever seared into my head and haunts me like a bad dream.

If you will recall, there was an “incident” a few weeks ago involving me, chocolate milk, and a renegade kindergarten kid (if you are lost, you may want to November 11 blog).

Well, he’s back.

I thought he and I had an understanding. I would avoid him at all costs and stay at least 50 feet away from him during school hours (like a self-imposed restraining order) and he would not accidently hit me in my man parts.

So I have spent most of the fall avoiding him and trying not to make eye contact (because I didn’t want to anger him).

I thought this was an excellent idea on my part. But, my best laid plans came crashing to a close yesterday.

Minding my own business, I was headed down the hallway to get my daily dose of chocolate milk (quite a bargain at 25 cents if you ask me) and then it happened.

I felt a presence before I even saw him. It was like a cold breeze had come down the hallway (this may be a bit overdramatic- some kid left the front door of the school open).

Just like Batman, he came out of the shadows. At that moment, I thought I was alone in the hallway and then suddenly, out of nowhere, he was right behind me.

My first thought was I should scream like a little girl and run and find an authority figure. But on second thought, it occurred to me that might be perceived as weakness by the teachers. Who can respect an administrator who screams and runs away from a 5 year old child?

Before I could make a decision on the screaming/running, the boy says “Hey, I know you!”

I interpreted this to mean, “Hey, old bald man in the ugly tie, I am an above average reader and I stumbled across your blog last night as I was cruising the internet. I read what you wrote about me and now I am going to kick your behind in front of the entire school.”

In retrospect it is possible that I read too much into what he said. Things were happening so fast at this point. About this time I began to feel a little light headed and there was some concern on my part that I might throw up.

And then my worst nightmare. Well, not worst. He didn’t hit me again, but he said, “I know where you live.”

I can no longer simply avoid him at school. The little guy with the strong right hook knows where I live.

I must have had a look of amazement combined with fear and a touch of shock on my face.

It was all happening so fast. The entire conversation probably only took 10 seconds, but to me it seemed to me that time had stopped.

The scary part… I don’t live in the same town in which I work. This kid has obviously gone out of his way to follow me home. He has specifically targeted me.

I hope everyone doesn’t lose respect for me, but I am considering not returning to work next week.

If I do go in, I am wearing protection. And I am not walking down that hallway in the morning alone.

It’s not safe.

Who knew a kid with a SpongeBob backpack and a Shrek lunchbox could be so scary?

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Newspapers, Multiple Choice Questions, and My Medication.

This Really Isn't My Medication.  As Far As You Know.I seem to be having more and more random thoughts that don’t deserve an entire blog. My medication may need to be adjusted. Again.

While most of my thoughts aren’t fully formed, once they get stuck in my head I can’t seem to shake them. I consider these random thoughts to be the runts of the blog litter.

They probably don’t qualify for a full-fledged blog, but let’s be honest- I can only come up with so many things that amuse me. The only way for me to get rid of these thoughts seems to put them in a blog.

Once I do that, I can’t remember what I wrote two days later. Again an adjustment of medication would probably help.

Since all of these thoughts can’t make the cut for fully formed adult bloghood; some must sit at the card table of the blog family with the other childlike blogs (they have to hope that Grandpa Blog dies soon, so they can sit at the main table).

My latest random thought (speaking of dying) is the fact that newspapers are going by the wayside.

I find myself reading more and more of my newspapers online. In fact, it seems that I get most of my information on the world from internet sites (when I need information on America’s Biggest Redneck, Brittany Spears- you can’t expect me to wait for the morning paper).

Should I consider myself lazy when it takes too much effort to go outside, pick up the paper, take the rubber band off, actually open up the newspaper and then read it (I didn’t even mention the part where I have to turn the pages)?

It is easier to just click on a website.

Strangely, I seem to trust the information I get from the internet more than what I get from TV news or the newspaper. At one time in my life I thought whatever I read in the newspaper was honest and what I saw on the news was truthful.

Now I rely almost solely on the internet. At first I didn’t trust the internet news because it was new and new things are scary (if you don’t believe me ask someone over the age of 60).

It was kind of like when my parents got their first microwave and I wasn’t allowed to stand in from of it. There was some fear that tumors would sprout out of my head like flowers in the springtime if I stood too close while I microwaved a hot dog (I wish I was kidding, but this might explain the medication issue).

Now I tend to think that all news on TV and in newspapers is slanted in some way.

I don’t consider what they do lying; it is just that these media outlets tell the truth as they see it. Much like a 5th grade boy or a 7th grade girl.

I probably shouldn’t badmouth newspapers, because some of them actually pick up this blog and run it on their websites (mostly as a space filler I think because they certainly don’t pay me- this is my sad and pathetic attempt at sympathy).

There are bad things about getting your news online… mainly, you can’t use a website to pack when you move (Sometimes I give myself a headache as these “thoughts” pass through my head- it is either genius, old age, or just plain stupidity- I can’t decide which).

My high school history teacher would have phrased the question like this:

Question #37 Is this blogger the way he is because of
a. Genius
b. Old age
c. Stupidity
d. All of the above
e. None of the above
f. Both a and b
g. Both b and c
h. I had no idea there was a test today

As you pause for a moment and discuss this among yourselves, I will move on.

Thank you to everyone who has been kind enough to vote for this blog as Best New Blog of 2007 on

The purpose of this blog was never to win awards (although I do like trophies), but it was simply to…. actually who am I kidding, it never really had an actual point to it.

That is the blog’s genius…. or stupidity… or both… or I had no idea I had to answer a multiple choice question when I started reading this blog.

Thanks again for your votes and nice emails. Now you may want to go and consider reading a newspaper (you may need to move one day).

While you do that, I’m off to take more medication (less medication is never the answer).

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A Very Special 50th Blog (Don’t Get Your Hopes Up; I’ve Got Nothing).

A Really Not So Special 50th Blog.I am amazed that this is the 50th blog. Who knew I could write so much about so little. I must admit that I really had very little to say when I started this little blog venture.

And I am sorry to announce that I’ve still got nothing.

If you haven’t read this blog, I will attempt to summarize in a relatively painless manner of what has happened so far (like you have missed anything).

If the following makes little or no sense to you, welcome to my world. If it does make sense, you really need to find a hobby.

These are in no particular order and should not be construed as intelligent thoughts.

The highlights and items that have been established so far are that I hate soccer, my daughter likes ice cream, you can’t sell a child for a decent price on EBAY, my wife is a saint, TV stinks, if you don’t pay attention a kindergarten kid can do some damage, burnt popcorn stinks up the entire school, my childhood was complicated, people who work in education like the free food, time changes in the fall are no fun (but great in the spring), my daughter’s teacher sees only the best side of her at school (for this I am thankful), a Bert Parks reference dates me, the next President should be a 4th grade teacher, life moves fast, always bleed outside in the yard, people from small towns stick out in the big city, my daughter finds her father goofy (someday I hope to meet him- it’s a joke), be kind to the baggage handler, don’t obsess about your ACT score, if you don’t text message you are probably old, Ferris Bueller is cool, everyone needs someone to blame, in my mind civilization is coming to an end (don’t panic- I mean eventually, you should have plenty of time to finish this blog), lots of papers to grade can make a person tense, being able to buy large amounts of condiments makes me extremely happy, always know the answer to a question before you ask, meetings are boring, “heads up” is always followed by bad news, I didn’t appreciate recess when I was a kid like I should have, lots of people don’t know who Mike Rowe is (I pity you) and most of all- I have way too much free time (if you don’t believe me- read this paragraph again).

There you have it. 50 blogs in one long, rambling, unintelligible, almost unreadable paragraph. Granted, this blog is not rocket science or brain surgery, but it keeps me off the streets at night.

I get lots of questions about the blog (okay… a few… humor me). I don’t have time to answer both of them, so I will address the most important.

The #1 question that people ask me that finally needs answered is….

“Have you bought the poor, mistreated child ice cream yet?” Well, here is your answer.

Ice Cream Face.

She lives a life that I didn’t even know existed when I was a kid.

Now that she has her ice cream, you people (okay… person) can leave me alone.

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Thanksgiving is Over, TV Stinks, and I Have a Man Crush.

Mike Rowe from Dirty Jobs.Now that Thanksgiving is over, I thought I would watch some TV. Turns out there is nothing on, because television stinks.

What other industry in the last 20 years has grown and diversified like television, but has steadily gotten worse?

I think we were all better off back in 1980 when I was a kid. We lived in the country and had a TV antenna that provided us with four television stations. Of course this could change if it was raining, then we might pick up additional stations or have none at all- it was a roll of the dice.

Maybe I am getting old and cranky (who am I kidding?….maybe?… more like definitely), but I think TV was better when we had less choices.

I have no idea what is on TV tonight, but I can still remember what was on when I was 12 or 13. That would have been somewhere around 1979 or 1980 (please feel free to check and see if my memory is as good as I want to believe it is- although I can never find my truck keys or remember what day of the month it is).

On Sundays, I watched Disney’s Wonderful World, Chips, and Trapper John M.D. I would have preferred staring at Charlie’s Angels, but my mom considered that pornography. She was right, but I would have still loved to have a Farrah Fawcett poster or t-shirt (for you youngsters- she was hot before bad plastic surgery and the insanity set in).

Mondays were all about That’s Incredible and Monday Night Football. Where have you gone John Davidson and Fran Tarkenton? The football game was a huge deal, because this was before you could watch 20 pro and college games every week on TV.

Arguably, Tuesdays were the best television night of the week. Happy Days, Laverne and Shirley, and Three’s Company (funny and rude, although I didn’t get the rude part back then- evidently my mom didn’t get it either or this would have also been considered pornographic).

Wednesdays brought us Eight is Enough or Real People, Different Strokes, and Facts of Life (this was before all the kids on these shows were on drugs). As I got older, I would also watch Vegas or Quincy (Quincy was old, grouchy, and cool- he was CSI before Grissom).

Thursdays were the next best thing after Tuesdays. Our viewing choices were Mork and Mindy, Bosom Buddies, and Magnum P.I. (man those guys were cool- although in retrospect, Magnum’s shorts could also be considered pornographic).

Four words sum up Fridays- The Dukes of Hazzard. Magnum was cool, but couldn’t hold a candle to Bo and Luke. They gave country boys the hope that they too could be cool (all we needed was a fast car and some flannel shirts- scratch that we already had the flannel). Plus they had Daisy and that in combination with puberty was a recipe for disaster. It is my understanding that “Daisy Duke” in French means- pornographic.

Saturday was Barbara Mandrell and her less talented sisters (dad controlled the TV on Saturdays). Don’t even get me started on Hee Haw (Sunday nights I think- maybe that is why I still dread Sunday nights- this is like therapy).

Back then TV had fewer choices, but I think it was so much better. When you went to school everyone had watched the same thing, so we all had that in common. Maybe having 500 stations isn’t such a great idea.

HD is nice, but it doesn’t make a bad show any better.

Now that I am older and have all of these stations to watch, I have no idea what is on.

The only day I even feel the need to watch is on “Man”day’s (that is Monday for those of you who don’t live in my house). Prison Break, Heroes, and 24 are the only shows I have to watch. Except for…

my friend, my pal, my hero, my man crush- Mike Rowe from Dirty Jobs. If he is on, I am watching. If you have no idea who I am talking about, you have my condolences on the sad and pathetic life you are stumbling through.

Mike Rowe is a hunk of man candy and without a doubt a genius. He goes around the country helping regular people do their terrible, often unappreciated jobs and he gets paid (I am guessing a lot) for it.

I wish he was my neighbor, but it is probably for the best that he isn’t. I would stalk him and he would probably never be home anyway.

There are a ton of bad jobs out there for him to shadow. And as long as there continues to be 500 stations with nothing on, there will always be a place for Mr. Rowe.

And with my luck, my next neighbor will be Mr. Roper or Ralph Furley.

Please feel free to Google: John Davidson, Fran Tarkenton, Mike Rowe, Mr. Roper, Ralph Furley, or any other pathetic 80’s or TV references that I have made. I am sure you won’t be alone. Please don’t Google pornography on my time. Thank You.

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Kids, Schools, Lunch Ladies, and Thanksgiving.

Lunchlady from the Simpsons.As we approach the Thanksgiving Holiday, it is time to pause for a moment and count our blessings. As school employees we have lots of things we need to remember and appreciate. Here are just a few items for which we should all give our thanks.

At school, Thanksgiving week is a short week. People involved in education always look forward to shortened weeks, even though we all know these can seem longer than a regular five day week. There is nothing better than Tuesday turning into Friday.

Actually, it can get better when that Tuesday is an early out day.

Consequently, Thanksgiving brings us a long weekend. Nothing better than a mini-vacation in the middle of the year. People in the real world look forward to their two week vacation that comes after 50 weeks of hard work. In education, we get time off at least once a month.

Another reason to be thankful is that Christmas is right around the corner. The countdown clock on tells me there are only about 30 days left.
How sweet it is to know that another vacation is on the horizon. I love my job.

One of the greatest reasons for which to be thankful, the kindness bestowed upon you in the form of extra helpings of turkey & noodles and mashed potatoes from the lunch ladies. Well, that is, only if you have shown them the same kindness throughout the year!

Who knew you could get that much white food on one small lunch tray (don’t forget the extra slice of white bread with the perfectly pre-portioned rectangular butter slab). This may well be the best school lunch of the year.

I am personally thankful that I no longer have to monitor the junior high lunchroom. If you have not been in charge of junior high lunch, you have no idea why I am thankful. If you have been, we are now officially bonded for life.

There are lots of other reasons we should be thankful; secretaries who actually run the school, janitors who clean up everything (and I mean everything), the bus drivers, lunch ladies (I am being nice because next Thanksgiving is just a year away), aides, bookkeepers, nurses, teachers, administrators, assistant principals, deans, coaches, and everyone else who helps to make a school run smoothly.

But I think the #1 reason I am thankful is that I don’t have to completely grow up.

My life continues to revolve around the start of school, games, tournaments, holidays, long weekends, school pictures, open house, field trips, dances, graduation, scholarships, yearbooks, and summer vacation.

The majority of my life continues to be a small part of kids growing up in their lives, and I get paid to help them. Go to school and get paid. What a life I lead. One day I might just have to grow up and get a real job.

Every school year the students get a year older and yet in my own mind I stay the same age.

For that I say, “Thanks.”

Happy Thanksgiving Everybody.

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I Went to the City Again. Man my Suitcase was Heavy.

I Can't Pack.I took another trip to big city this weekend. As it turns out, I am still dumbfounded by many things (mostly my odd and some would say erratic behavior).

I still don’t understand why people in the city need the following on every city block; a Wal-greens, Starbucks, Subway, and Dunkin Donuts. I think I have mentioned this before, but it really bothers me. It is my theory that people in the city would be friendlier if we just gave them some shopping choices.

Every city block is exactly the same. Walk in any direction and you can get a magazine, an overpriced coffee, a 6 inch ham and cheese sub, and donuts that will make your heart stop for 45 seconds. Don’t worry, the coffee always brings you back (that 12 dollars you spend on a small cup is worth it).

In my mind the city takes more effort and patience than I am willing to put forth. That is why I am always glad to return home.

I have no interest in taking 25 minutes to travel a mile and a half in traffic. Also, does every cab driver have to honk at every man, woman, child, dog, and squirrel that is within 250 feet of their vehicle- usually for no apparent reason (technically, I made up the squirrel part- they don’t live in the city- their little hearts can’t take the donuts or coffee)?

Also, if I am hungry, I want to eat 10 minutes ago; not wait in line for three hours for a table. Plus, I like breakfast as much as the next person (most important meal of the day!), but a banana, a yogurt, and two biscuits and gravy all washed down with a luke warm glass of chocolate milk isn’t worth twenty bucks (plus tip, or as they say in the city- gratuity).

On top of this, I am still confused at where people in the city shop for groceries. This continues to be one of the great mysteries of my life (along with Donald Trump’s hair- is it a toupee or a comb over- it exhausts me just to look at it).

I must have walked by 3 gun shops, 14 tattoo parlors, and 27 bars (all of which frightened me), but not one grocery store.

On top of this confusion, it has become apparent that I am not cut out for a life where I go from one city to the next on business. Luckily for me, these types of job offers aren’t really pouring in.

One thing has become abundantly clear to me as I travel the world. I am the worst packer in the world.

Not to offend the better half of the human race, but I pack like a girl. And even sadder, I recognize this and still can’t change this pathetic behavior.

The best I can tell is if I am going to be gone three days I need (not want mind you, but need) at least the minimum of the following items; 57 pairs of underwear, 42 pairs of socks, 9 pairs of jeans, 27 shirts, 3 watches, 14 pairs of shoes, and a partridge in a pear tree.

This takes a lot of work to get ready for a short trip, but it is worse when I get home and realize that I have to put up 54 pairs of underwear, 39 pairs of socks, 7 pairs of jeans, 24 shirts, 2 watches, and 13 pairs of shoes that I didn’t wear.

Maybe I would be better off living in the city, where I didn’t have to worry about packing to visit the city because I would already be there.

Of course, then I would have a larger problem in that I would starve to death because I certainly have no idea where to find a grocery store.

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If a Deer is Loose in the High School, It’s Going to be a Long Day.

You Don't Want Him Running Down Your Hallway.There is a phrase that a school administrator can hear that lets them know their day is about to get worse. Just the thought of it sends chills down my spine.

There is no way to hear this very common phrase and have it followed by “you just won the lottery, a supermodel wants to date you, or the school board is about to double your salary.”

These particular words can only be followed by bad news, worse news, or I wish I had never been born news.

Don’t get me wrong, this phrase is not as bad as when you ask your doctor if this will hurt and he says “just bend over and try to think happy thoughts- this will only take several minutes.”

Or when the same doctor tells you “best case- you have two weeks left to live- it is a shame our office couldn’t get in touch with you last week before we went on vacation”.

The phrase is “I just want to give you a heads-up.”

This can only be followed by a reaction of, crap my day just went down the toilet and I wish I was still a teacher, or better yet- unemployed.

When anyone who works in a school walks up to you and says “I just want to give you a heads-up” it is usually them telling you what someone else has done, said, failed to do, or is about to do and you need to sprint in what will most likely be a failed attempt to stop the person in question.

Examples include, but are not limited to:

“I just want to give you a heads-up”- the toilets are overflowing in the theater and the musical starts in 7 minutes.

“I just want to give you a heads-up”- we may have miscounted the ballots for homecoming queen.

“I just want to give you a heads-up”- the art room is on fire, again.

“I just want to give you a heads-up”- there is a deer loose in the high school and he seems upset.

“I just want to give you a heads-up”- someone just burnt popcorn in the teachers’ lounge, again.

“I just want to give you a heads-up”- an angry parent is in your office and there are sixteen more waiting in the hallway.

“I just want to give you a heads-up”- the Chief of Police just called and wants to know if you have 5 1/2 hours to talk.

“I just want to give you a heads-up”- rumor has it there may be some trouble with cheerleading tryouts.

“I just want to give you a heads-up”- we may have lost a kindergarten student at recess.

This is why I shudder at the mere thought of “I just want to give you a heads-up.” It is such a nice way of saying, “What I am about to tell you will make you blood pressure rise to a record level and will most certainly shorten your life span by months, if not years.”

So the next time your hear this phrase, at least you know to prepare for the worst.

I just wanted to give you a heads-up.

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Chocolate Milk Tastes Better When I am Not Being Violated.

Beware of the Chocolate Milk Kid.There are lots of good things about being a school administrator. The stress, the long hours, and the unhappy ____________ (fill in the blank with employees, staff, parents, community members, other community’s members, students, board members, the state board of education, and people at the post office who know everything we need to do to fix education).

In my estimation the good administrators are able to deal with the challenges I listed above and more importantly can focus on all of the good aspects of education. Such as: great students, parents, teachers, staff, and board members.

Granted, some days are easier than others, but by forging ahead, being prepared, keeping a positive attitude, staying organized, and always keeping your head on a swivel, it is possible to survive days, weeks, and in rare instances even years.

One of the absolute best things about being an administrator are kindergarten kids. They have the ability to keep teachers and administrators smiling on even the most challenging of days. They are without fail the happiest, most upbeat students in a school district.

Every year, they are truly excited about the school day, love their teacher (and sometimes even the principal), and certainly smile more than any other group.

I am sorry to report that they do have a dark side.

A few days ago, I was standing in the hallway, drinking my chocolate milk, and trying to mind my own business as the students arrived for what seemed like just another day. Unfortunately I got complacent and broke one of my own cardinal rules.

I didn’t have my head on a swivel. This should be lesson #1 in administrative classes. Always, and I mean always keep your head moving at least 360 degrees and be on the lookout for trouble within a radius of 2 miles.

As I stood in that hallway, it seemed like an ordinary day (this is a joke- there are no ordinary days in education). A large gang of kindergarteners made their way past me and most said “Good morning” or “Hi”, even the one I now refer to as “Touch Me Again and I Will Scream like a Little Girl.”

You see, on that particular day the last one in the group walked by and said “Hi Mr. Guy Who Always Wears a Tie” (I can’t list my real name because of the embarrassment and shame it would bring to my family and school district- actually, I just don’t want to be made fun of when I am in public).

Sadly, after he said hello, he then preceded to smack, tap, or touch me right in the chalk and erasers (I am still not sure what exactly happened because the shock, the horror, and the nightmare continue to haunt my dreams).

I nearly drowned in my own chocolate milk. The little guy didn’t even break stride, turn around, or even acknowledge that he had just broken 12 different schools rules, committed at least a misdemeanor, compromised my personal space, and left me a shamed and broken man.

I looked around for an administrator so that I could file a grievance, charges, or just have this young person hunted down, but as usual they are never around when you need one (also I joke- I am the administrator).

The only adults in the vicinity who could have been of assistance were two teachers and I noticed they weren’t much help. This occurred to me as I saw them doubled over and laughing hysterically (not with me, but at me).

That made three people doubled over in the hallway on that particular morning (for those of you keeping score at home).

As I reflect on this incident, I have learned two valuable lessons.

One, I must always be on the lookout for trouble (especially below me). And two, don’t expect people to rush to your defense when a kindergartner smacks you in the chalk and erasers.

Comments: 11

4th Grade Teacher for President.

It's a Great Country.I have lots of theories (as you may have noticed). My latest is the people of the United States vote for President just like they choose a fourth grade teacher for their oldest child.

Sure it sounds crazy at first glance, but trust me, I am on to something (and I have the facts to prove it).

The political pundits (I want one of those jobs where I get paid for spouting off my insane opinions) try and convince us that we elect a President after a lot of thought, watching the debates, and three years of seeing these yahoos give speeches to 12 people in Iowa and New Hampshire.

They act like we must be in total agreement with candidate’s thoughts on abortion, gun control, the death penalty, education and even their thoughts on America’s role in the world.

These pundits sit around on TV on Sunday morning (I am so jealous) and tell us how we will back a certain candidate based on their religion, their voting record in Congress, or even their choice of Vice Presidential running mate.

They think we can be swayed by the candidate who raises the most money, has the most commercials, or gets endorsed by the right newspaper or union.

Politicians think we vote for them based on whether they are a Democrat or a Republican, how they look on TV, or if they are from our part of the country.


We vote for the Presidential candidate exactly like we choose our child’s fourth grade teacher. Whichever one is the least creepy, acts like they have classroom control and is the most fun.

I could argue this point, but I will let history make my argument. Take a look at the following 5 Presidential Elections and tell me who you would rather have as your kid’s teacher.

2004 Bush vs. Kerry- regular guy wins over snobby guy (at the time of the election, who would you rather have had a parent-teacher conference with? That’s easy: the down home, regular guy, with a librarian wife – Mr. Bush).

2000 Bush vs. Gore- tough one. (toss up, hope the year goes fast and your child makes it to 5th grade without any permanent damage. If we knew back then that Mr. Gore was Mr. Environment, it would have been an easy decision- everybody loves the science guy, Bill Nye!)

1996 Clinton vs. Dole- fun guy (you can define fun), beats cranky old guy. Your son/daughter would have never forgiven you for putting them in Mr. Dole’s class (that’s a long year with a lot of yelling).

1992 Clinton vs. Bush #1- young hip teacher vs. grandpa who is counting down the days to retirement.

1988 Bush #1 vs. Dukakis- war hero vs. nerd riding around in a tank. Don’t tell me that Mr. Dukakis’s class wouldn’t have been a zoo (lots of note taking and boring lectures).

1984 Reagan vs. Mondale- really cool teacher with experience vs. a guy who subs a lot and makes everyone a little nervous.

I could go on and on with my full-proof political Presidential theory, but I think I have made my point.

Now that I have shared my theory, you should know who our next President will be.

Just ask yourself who would make the best 4th grade teacher: Mrs. Clinton, Mr. Romney, Mr. Obama, Mr. Giuliani, Mr. Edwards, Mr. Thompson, or Mr. McCain?

The answer is so obvious.

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Life Moves Pretty Fast.

Life Moves Fast.We now have about two weeks until Thanksgiving break. Life continues to speed by. I am sure it was just spring like ten minutes ago. This whole thing is starting to approach the ridiculous stage.

The longer I work in schools, the faster I think the time goes. School day after school day rolls by like we are sitting still. We get through one holiday and another one is upon us.

I think it is more noticeable in schools because we judge time not by years, but by midterms, nine weeks, semesters, seasons, holidays, and events like graduation. Every time I turn around, there is another event quickly approaching.

I get to school early (unless I’m sleepy), work for an hour (unless I’m lazy), go to morning duty (unless I get lost), come back to the office (again, unless lost), and then it is 7:30 p.m. (back to sleepy).

Kids who were just in 5th grade are now picking out their high school graduation announcements.

Teachers in the middle of their careers, when I began teaching, are now looking forward to retirement.

Students I had in my classes now stop by and visit when they come to school to pick up their kids (from 4th grade).

We just brought my daughter home from the hospital, and now she is almost a third of the way through her first grade year. Before I know it she will be in junior high (unless she continues to forget to do her chores; then we are giving her away- I am not joking- her room is such a mess that the other day she lost her bed).

Somehow, someway I have got to figure out a way to slow life down. If I could figure this out and then bottle it, I could make millions.

As that great American figure Ferris Bueller once said, “Life moves pretty fast. If you don’t stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it.”

He was/is a genius (and never got sleepy).

The fact that Ferris Bueller 2 was never made is the greatest crime of the 21st century.

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